


In The Night.

by LordStarling



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:54:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordStarling/pseuds/LordStarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short original horror story.<br/>About a werewolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Night.

Everyone was dead long before the horses rode into town.

No effort was made to clean up. The Witchfinder was well aware by this point that nobody would be returning to the derelict houses, racked as they were by poverty.

The train of people were survivors of sorts, collected for the chase from each village prior to this, the massacres moving onward every few days. 

None of the injured survived. He couldn’t let them. The risks were too high, or they were too weak, and that was his job no use worrying about a few dead peasants and paupers for gods sake he stuck pins in people and drowned and burnt and staked people for a living and there was no guarantee that they were innocent 100% of the time so why worry about a few extra if it were for the greater good praise the lord amen hallelujah.

Of course his subconscious had other ideas of how to judge guilt but that was that.

He never thought he would catch this one, except up ahead he saw movement. 

The first villager to notice gave a shout and pointed up in that direction. Others began to halt in their salvaging and advance.

This was one hunt he would not take part in, simply for the sake of closure.

So he let the villagers advance. Let them see that it’s a naked woman lying feral in the street, pinned under a body with the throat torn out in a clutter of houses spattered with blood and gore and bits of meat.

And they threw silver and they threw stones and lassoed her to their horses and dragged her through the blood until she is dead but they knew that come sundown she would come back to life and become the wolf again so they tied her to the wooden house on the outskirts.

The Witchfinder supervised, but it was a little girl who lit the fire.

They had found her under a house in the town before, the only survivor of the increasingly strong attacks, bowed over the cold bodies of what they assumed were her parents.

She never spoke, and vanished in and out of the camp, but they allowed it because she needed time to heal.

The first thing he heard her say was “Can I light it?” With such a serious look on her face that he humored the request and let her burn the creature that they had chased for miles and miles without ever catching a glimpse of it.

Until they found it trapped under it’s own kills as the sun came up.

It was unusual for a monster to become so careless.

The fire burned away the infection. The sun began to fall beyond the trail. The trail of people began to move away to find a place to camp out the night before moving on to the next town.

The Witchfinder followed. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the young girl silhouetted against the sunset. He waited until she turned and followed, on foot rather that horseback.

What he didn't see was the soul, the human, wolfless soul drifting from the body of the mangled, burning woman. 

He didn't see the not-so little girl smile as the town burnt with the stench of scorching meat.

He didn't see the twin moons in her eyes.

As soon as he turned his back, he didn’t see anything any more.

In the night, she came for the others.


End file.
